This cash only hole-in-the-wall has been serving up brewskies since 1937, and it looks as if some of the original patrons haven't left their bar stools since it opened. The tables are sticky, the walls are battered and lumpy and it looks as if the floor could give way at any moment. Incongruous knickknacks (Godzilla doll, wooden ships) covered in decades of dust fill the shelves. One bartender, who's been here for more than twenty years, calls himself a "rookie." It's one of those spots where everybody learns your name, but don't worry; with all those $4 shots, they'll forget it in the morning. Subway Inn, located at 143 E 60Th St caters to the anxious after-work crowd but once the drinks start coming the ties get loose. In an area where the next bar that opens is always trendier than the last, it’s nice to see a reliable dive right across the street from Bloomingdale’s.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Subway Inn
This cash only hole-in-the-wall has been serving up brewskies since 1937, and it looks as if some of the original patrons haven't left their bar stools since it opened. The tables are sticky, the walls are battered and lumpy and it looks as if the floor could give way at any moment. Incongruous knickknacks (Godzilla doll, wooden ships) covered in decades of dust fill the shelves. One bartender, who's been here for more than twenty years, calls himself a "rookie." It's one of those spots where everybody learns your name, but don't worry; with all those $4 shots, they'll forget it in the morning. Subway Inn, located at 143 E 60Th St caters to the anxious after-work crowd but once the drinks start coming the ties get loose. In an area where the next bar that opens is always trendier than the last, it’s nice to see a reliable dive right across the street from Bloomingdale’s.
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A few additional comments regarding my second home:
1. It is a time machine.
2. The toilet stalls in the men's room do not have doors, like a prison.
3. They only mix with top shelf liquors, and charge five bucks for any ordinary cocktail.
4. The jukebox is as diverse as the patronage.
5. All pretensions are left at the door, along with your dignity.
6. The ear offending smash of beer bottles being thrown in the recycling behind the bar becomes fainter with increased drinking.
7. In the same night, you might talk yourself into getting a job at Goldman-Sachs, and then trade war stories with a grizzled Vietnam vet.
That's all I got. The Subway Inn is a place where dreams are made, and then forgotten 5-12 hours later. Cheers!
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